


The Birth of Virgil June-Blackmore

by Snowfiredragon78



Series: Virgil June-Blackmore [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on the Labyrinth, Gen, Has Fae Lore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Takes Jareth From The Labyrinth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowfiredragon78/pseuds/Snowfiredragon78
Summary: Harry James Potter.Son of James and Lily Potter. The Heir of The House of Potter. Godson of Sirius Black And Remus Lupin. Boy-Who-Lived. The Heir of Slytherin. Friend of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.All of those above are titles and labels he once was known by. He never liked those titles, sure he loved Hermione and Ron's part but that was it, he would give anything to live away from those words - those titles.Virgil June-Blackmore.Grandson of the Labyrinth King. Heir to the Labyrinth. Husband to Ryker "Gilgamesh" Blackmore. Father of the Twins of Magic. Tamer of the Monsters. Calmer of the Gods. Friend to Reagan Tallis and Declan Kline.Virgil was proud of all those names. He raised his head high as those titles were placed on his shoulders. He would never give up his titles - nothing short of his family's lives that is.Two very different men.Yet both share the same face, both have the same scars, both lived the same lives.How did this come to be?





	1. The Note

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Harry Potter or any other fandom mentioned in this works.
> 
> I am going to use some elements of the Labyrinth in this story. Like using Character names and places.
> 
> If that bothers you don't read, if not, please read.
> 
> Don't forget to comment!

When Harry opened his eyes he was only to be met with darkness.

 

Darkness wasn't an unusual thing to Harry, seeing that he was going blind for year or two. But even he could tell that this darkness was different than the usual darkness. The usual darkness was just that: darkness. This darkness was different, different in the way that it was heavy. The normal darkness wasn't heavy, it just filled with the foreboding feeling of blindness and never seeing light again. This darkness wasn't like that. If Harry could put a name to it, he would call protective? No, it wasn't protective but something more.

 

Whatever it was Harry had to put in the back of his mind and focus on the now. And the now it said that he needs to get his sight back.

 

He closed his eyes and prayed to whatever god was listening that he could see when he opens them up again.

 

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

 

The first thing he notes was the dimming sunlight, the second thing he noted was how quiet the house was, and the third thing he was not the fact his bedroom door was wide open.

 

Harry tilted his head, much like Hedwig does, and took further note of the third thing. The door was open, wide open. It looked as though locks on the door were ripped off or ripped open. The hinges looked fine and so did the doorknob. So what happened?

 

Harry took a step forward only for his legs to give out. Looking down at them he saw large bruises covering legs and large spots where the skin was rubbed raw. His ankles were a swollen and bright pink color. Dudley used his legs as a bounce house. It wouldn't be a surprise with they were broken in some way.

 

He signed and looked back to the door. The outside of the door – the part of the door that faces the hallway – was covered in scratches, some deeper than others, but nonetheless, there were scratches all over his door.

 

He turned quickly to Hedwig who was sleeping peacefully, unbothered by the attack on his door. Her head was tucked underneath her wing without care and Harry was happy with that. It meant whatever attacked his door was no danger to him. Hedwig would never sleep through if something was dangerous to her chick.

 

The newly turned thirteen-year old took a deep breath and stepped through the threshold of his room and into the rest of the house.

 

Pushing past the pain and toward the unusual scene.

 

At first, nothing looked out of place.

 

The hallway rug was fine and as straight as an arrow. All the bedroom doors were shut like normal. The curtains were closed like normal, and if weren't the missing snores of the male Dursleys, Harry would have thought everything was fine.

 

But the snores were missing.

 

It left the house in a weird moment.

 

A pure quiet moment.

 

So rare for Harry especially at Dursleys.

 

Harry didn't dare breath. It was like he stepped into a twilight moment – from the Twilight Zone – at least he thought that's what the show was called that.

 

He took a careful step forward suddenly thankful that Aunt Petunia hated squeaky floorboards.

 

The upstairs looked fine, though he didn't look into any rooms, so he headed downstairs. Using the wall as a crutch. Just like the floorboards in the hallway, all the squeaky boards on the stairs were removed, and Harry moved down the stairs like a ghost. His breath barely more then a puff of air, his feet moved like they were gliding on ice, and his body tense like a tripwire. Just waiting for the sign to run up the stairs and grab Hedwig.

 

The sign to run back upstairs was on the wall.

 

It was a note.

 

Pinned to the wall with a pretty dagger – Harry must say so himself – through the top of it was a note. The note its self was short and to the point, something Harry was quite happy about, but the fact the note was in the house meant something was wrong.

 

A note pinned to a wall by a most likely magical dagger in a house filled with magic-hating muggles.

 

Harry bit his lip as he read the note.

 

_Dear Harry,_

 

_I am a friend of your parents and I have finally found you after years of searching._

 

_I have found your placement with the magic-hating Petunia Dursley nee Evans, her husband and her spawn, unsatisfactory._

 

_I have left this note with the hope you will contact me._

 

_If you do not contact me – I will find no fault in that._

 

_But if you are ever in danger or in dire need of aid; do not be afraid to use the dagger on your enemies or be afraid to call for me._

 

_If you ever need me or do decide to contact me; just say these words._

 

“ _I, Harry James Potter, wish for the aid of the Labyrinth and that of its rightful Ruler.”_

 

_Take Care, The Ruler of the Labyrinth._

 

Well, it wasn't as upfront as Harry would have wanted, but beggars can't be choosers and Harry was the beggar.

 

He put thought to what the letter said.

 

The Dursleys weren't ever nice to the black haired teen, but the last three years were starting to get dangerous. Very dangerous.

 

His back still ached from when Uncle Vernon took his belt to it. His arm ached from when Dudley grabbed it and pulled him to ground before stepping on said arm. His head had pain ringing through it from two different reasons, one was from the frying pan that Aunt Petunia his it with and the other was from his scar. Said scar had been aching all summer but hit its peak on his birthday. Not to mention his legs.

 

The beating fed his nightmares, more then Quirrell-Mort, Tom Riddle, and his attack snake, ever will.

 

He should probably worry about where the letter came from. Harry didn't care though, the letter promised to get him out. He didn't know if another chance like this will come up again, so as the sunlight faded from the sky, Harry called for the unknown person.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“I, Harry James Potter, wish for the aid of the Labyrinth and that of its rightful Ruler,” Harry's voice disappeared into the air. 

At first, nothing happened; the house still silent as a mouse hiding from a cat. Though he did notice something was very different. It was breezy night and the wind suddenly stopped. Hedwig went from cause a minor ruckus upstairs to no ruckus at all.

Harry looked out the window and caught sight of a shadow. The shadow was tall with wild hair, he couldn't tell what the shadow looked like only that its hair was big in a way. He could hear the sound of footsteps approach the front door and a sudden thought hit Harry.

Was it the ruler of the Labyrinth? If so, they can get to places fast.

Harry took small steps away from the door as three knocks rang.

“Harry dear, I know you're in there,” A voice called out. “Harry dear, you have to give me permission to come inside.” Harry took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

“Come in.”

The door opened quietly; without a single squeak and in came the Ruler of the Labyrinth.

Harry was right on the hair. The Ruler of the Labyrinth and crazy hair that Aunt Petunia would never agree with. His pants were tight and his shirt was ruffled at the collar and sleeve.

Harry felt that his knees bend before he fell to the ground in front of this ethereal being. He didn't mean to fall but the pain in his legs – the pain his whole body was in – became too much for him to handle standing up. He stayed sitting on the floor for a few moments to regain his thoughts and control over his body.

The Ruler of the Labyrinth stared down at the teen who looked more like a child of twelve. The Ruler's odd colored eyes roamed around the plain room. He sneered at the pictures of the Dursleys and the missing pictures of the black haired teen.

The blond Ruler took a few steps toward the sitting teen and study him.

The blacked haired was pale, near the color of snow. The smell of iron and blood wasn't thick but it was there. His legs were shaking as he sat on the ground, his green eyes dotted around the room but always landed back on the Ruler. His scent didn't harbor fear only distress. 

Interesting, the Ruler of the Labyrinth though. The Ruler took a few steps forward and sat down by teen. He lifted a gloved hand and laid it upon Harry's shoulder, the Ruler watched as the bruises and cuts left the teen's body.

His eyes narrowed at his magic being stopped at Harry's eyes and legs. A smile pulled at his lips at the discovery, interesting indeed.

“Your mother wasn't just human,” The Ruler said, breaking the silence. “Her father – your grandfather – was half Fae.” The Ruler looked into Harry's wide eyes, “Your great-grandfather is full Fae.”

“What?” Harry asked. His mind drawing a blank at the idea that his mother wasn't human. It wasn't making sense! Lily Potter was a Muggle-born! She was the daughter to two muggle parents and the sister to a Muggle sister. 

She was completely human!

But as Harry stared up at the Ruler of the Labyrinth he came to a realization: one the Ruler's eyes were green. The green that Harry had, the green that he was told that Lily Potter had.

“Your great-grandfather had a night of pleasure with a female mortal. A child, your grandfather, was born and your great-grandmother raised him, your grandfather knew he was different but never knew why. When your mother was born and started showing her abilities, your grandfather called his mother who called his father.” The Ruler looked smiled at Harry. “Your great-grandfather never told your mother about being a fae, but did say he wasn't human.”

“What about Aunt Petunia and Dudley?” Harry asked as he thought about the information he was getting. The man before wasn't human. There was no way in whatever underworld that was real was the Ruler of the Labyrinth was human. 

The man's calm and pleasant face twisted up into a sneer. “Petunia and her spawn are from your grandmother's first marriage. Your mother was from her second.”

Harry nodded, that would explain why Aunt Petunia looked different from his mother and him. “So my grandfather was half Fae, my mother was – what a third Fae? What does that make me? A quarter Fae?” Said as he looked at the being (Fae?) before him.

“Exactly,” The Ruler said with a clap of his hands. He said it so cheerfully, that Harry wondered if the man was expecting to have to explain everything. 

“How do I know that this is true?” Harry asked with narrow eyes. “And who are you? How do I know to believe you?” 

Harry had an idea. He didn't know if it was true but he couldn't help but hope. 

In most legends, Fae is notoriously hard to kill. Legends say that Fae can live far longer than humans, they say that they retain their youth much longer than humans. 

Harry hoped that he was right, he hoped against hope that he was right. He prayed to whatever god was listening that he was right. 

The man's smile turned into a smirk, his eyes had a pleased look to them. He held up one finger, “First question: Gringotts' Blood Test. It can tell you many things.” A second finger was held up, “The second question: I am Jareth the Goblin King, rightful Ruler and King of the Labyrinth and all the Fae that call it home. And for your third question,” He held up a third finger and stood up from where he sat next to Harry. “I'm your great-grandfather.” He finished with a bow.

Harry's mouth fell open as he stared at the man – no, not man, his great-grandfather.

“You may call me Jareth or Grandfather,” Jareth said as he looked down at his dark-haired grandson, “I would you to call me Grandfather but we can work up to that.”


	3. Chapter 3

He was right, Harry thought numbly as he stared up at his new Grandfather.

His Grandfather was tall and he wondered if he was going to get any of that height. Knowing his luck he would stop growing at 5'1. Fuck, Harry cursed inside his head, he jinxed it. He freaking jinxed his height, why was this his life?

The sudden chuckles from his grandfather brought him out of his thoughts. His grandfather – isn't that a novel, him, Harry Potter with a Grandfather, Who would have thought – looked at Harry with a charming smile as he turned toward the door. “You need to learn to hide your thoughts,” His grandfather said.

Harry sat still, hiding his thoughts? Wait did that mean people could read his thoughts? Harry hurried to pull himself up off the floor. 

“Where are you going?” Harry asked. Why was his grandfather moving toward the door? Was he leaving him? 

Jareth looked over his shoulder, “I'm going to Gringotts for that blood test,” He looked straight into Harry's eyes, “You coming?”

Harry nodded, “I need a grab, Hedwig.” He turned tail and ran up the stairs as fast as he could. He could hear his grandfather follow up him up the stairs. 

He ran toward Hedwig with a smile, sure he was hurting and limping, but he had a grandfather; who was following behind, he had a right to be happy.

He knew that Jareth was his grandfather he could feel it. And he couldn't wait to tell and show Hedwig all about it. Hedwig flapped her wings but easily settled on to the teen's arm without a fuss. Her large eyes stared to the Ruler unblinkingly, like she was searching his soul. After what felt like a century – she looked and went trying to sort Harry's hair out.

Harry hoped she found what she was looking for.

As they stepped outside of the house Harry could feel the warm summer air turn and shift as his grandfather lifted his hand.

He leaned into his grandfather's side and waited for the wind to die down. He held Hedwig close in one hand and held on to the sleeve of his grandfather's shirt. The air wasn't hot nor was it cold as it blew through him, there was a thick wall of wind surrounding him as he looked around. He couldn't see through the wall and soon it was underneath them and soon they were flying.

The wall of wind turned into a bubble, he thought as he looked up, with them trapped inside. 

Hedwig seemed fine as she tucked her head underneath her wing and went to sleep. 

Harry looked to his grandfather and looked back at the wall, “What is that?” 

His grandfather didn't break his concentration, “It's called a Wind Bubble.” The Fae looked over at the younger and smiled and held out his hand. “What to try?”

Harry took his hand and the grandfather laced their fingers together and touched the wall. The wind surrounded their hands as they made contact with it. Harry felt the speed surround his hand and feet, anchoring him to the bottom of the bubble. 

“Feel for the current,” Jareth said, “The Wind Bubble is like a ball. It's got a bounce to it but it can't take many hits. To make the bubble stronger you strengthen the walls.” He turned to Harry, “Got an idea on how to strengthen the walls?” 

Harry looked at the older then looked back at the wall. The wall was made of wind, so to make the wall stronger you add wind, right?

“Add wind?” Harry asked.

“Was that a question or an answer?” Jareth asked.

Harry took a deep breath, “You add wind to make it stronger,” he said with certainty.

“You're right,” Jareth said, “Now how do you add wind? Keep in mind that we have to be in contact with the walls to make it work”

Harry closed his eyes. To strengthen wind of the bubble you need to add wind, to make to spell work you need to be in contact?

He didn't know a lot of spells that need constant contact to work? The only thing he needs to be in contact with to make his spells work was his wand. And his wand was the thing that channeled his magic properly.

Wait.

That was it!

Harry needs to use his wand to cast normal spells, but the Wind Bubble wasn't a normal spell. The need for contact was because your hand acted as the wand. Your magic was how you added wind!

“Your magic adds the wind!” Harry said as he gazed at his grandfather. He was met with a smile and suddenly felt something rush through him at the look, he didn't know what the feeling was but it felt good. He felt the tip of his ears turn red and burned before he turned away from the elder. 

Laughter met Harry's ears as he felt someone ruffle his hair, “Your right. The user's magic fuels the bubble, as more magic is pumped into the spell; the stronger the wind gets and the larger the bubble gets.” His grandfather looked at him and gestured to their hands. “By putting your hand on the wall you can power it.”

“How do you pump power through,” Harry asked looking at their linked hands. 

“You push,” Jareth answered with a smirk dancing on his lips, he turned away from Harry and focused on the wall of wind. He raised his free hand and pushed. 

Harry couldn't see the magic but he could see the effects, he watched as the wind curved and bend around the hand. The wind covered his grandfather's hand like a glove, a moving glove, but a glove nonetheless, Harry watched as move wind appeared from elder's hand move throughout the bubble. It ripples like a wave, or a drop of water in a cup, one of the ripples brushed against his shoulder and he laughed.

He didn't know why but it felt right to. 

The wind seemed to brighten from the dark gray that it was; to a bright white and gray mix. 

Jareth let his own chuckles to join his grandson as he watched the young fae. The Wind Bubble moved faster and sadly he had to tell his grandson that the ride had come to a stop.

“We're here,” He said as he let the bubble disappear.

Harry groaned as he once again leaned against his grandfather for balance. He takes a deep breath and looked up at the bank. 

“Why are we here again?” Harry asked.

“Blood test,” His grandfather said as he led them inside. “Your my grandchild, I know that. But a blood test will tell us if you inherited any powers and if you have life-threatening issues.”

“Oh.”

Harry looked up at the bank and noticed how different it look at night than in the day.

“Come along now,” his grandfather called out to Harry from a few steps away.

Harry caught up to him and together the odd duo entered the bank.

The bank was empty. 

The normal goblin that would sit in the teller box was gone. The Bank of the Goblin's sat in a weird limbo of being welcoming and warm to a feeling of danger and cold. 

Harry pulled himself closer to his grandfather and kept a wary eye as he walked threw the dark hallways of the bank. He didn't know why they couldn't wait for daylight but what done is done and Harry could only bare with till everything was said and done.

Harry followed the fae through the long hallways and dark shadows. 

They slowed down as they approached an old oak door. It had a plain look to it but there was something strange about it. Harry couldn't put his finger on it but he certainly knew that the door was odd and it wasn't just it's placement at the end of a dark windowless hallway.

He looked at his grandfather as he knocked on the door.

The knocks bounced off the walls and rang in the ear of the younger. Harry flinched at the sound and nearly jumped out of his skin when the door started to glow a dim golden color. Harry watched as the door disappeared into the wall seamlessly.

“Come on in,” The king said. The King of the Labyrinth walked toward the desk that sat in the middle of the room. He sat in the seat that stood behind the desk and with the wave his hand a new seat appeared in front of the desk. “Take a seat.” 

Harry looked at the leather seat before sitting down it. The cool leather felt good against his bruised back and as Harry settled down into the seat Jareth called for a goblin.

“So how are we going to do this?” Harry asked. He watched his grandfather as he moved things around on the desk and used the magic to bring a roll of parchment and a bowl of clear water to the desk. 

“We need a goblin – which I already called – and some of my blood and some of yours,” Jareth said as he pulled out a knife from a drawer. He placed it next the parchment, “Place your knife on the desk, would you?”

Harry actually forgot that he had the blade that was used to pin the note the door. He placed it next to his grandfather's and immediately noticed something different about them. His grandfather's looked like a normal knife that you would see in movies. Stainless Steel with a dark wooden handle – though Harry knew there was something different about it, he just didn't know if there was some kind of spell or something on it. Harry's on the other hand looked more ornamental than useful, the blade was dark blade that was slightly curved, the hand-guard was decorated with bright rubies, and the hilt was hand out of some kind of white stone wrapped in black leather.

He wanted to pick it up and focus on it but he could do that later. 

“Your Highness?” A voice said as three sold knocks it the door. Harry nearly jumped when he heard the knocks, too absorbed in his thoughts. 

“Yes, Chief Wartell, come on in,” The king opened the door and gestured to the other chairs. Both a small distance from Harry and closer to the king. “I need a blood test for my grandson.”

Chief Wartell looked over Harry before turning back to the king, “To verify he is yours?” 

The king threw a writing quill at the goblin's head and missed by an inch as it nailed its self into the wall. “No, you idiot! I know he's mine! Useless you doubt me then there is no problem,” The king stated. 

The goblin jumped in his seat – it looked like he wanted to grovel at the king's feet, “No! No, your Highness, I would never doubt you!”

“Good,” The king said he gazed to the small being, “I need to ingredients you the test and a witness to the test.” The king lifted a brow, “I trust you can perform those acts?”

The goblin gave a wicked looking smile, “Yes sir!” 

“Good, now do get the ingredients!” The goblin ran off as soon as those words left the king's mouth.

“So how will this play out?” Harry asked.

His grandfather glanced over at him, “You will drop three drops of blood into the bowl. The water will turn purple and then I will take three drops and drop them on the parchment.” The goblin came in with a small tray but stayed quiet as his king spoke, “Your name and all your main injuries over the years along with major illness will show.” His grandfather stood up and took the tray, “The reason for my blood is for if there is anything wrong. Common Fae blood is a power boost for a normal wizard. Noble Fae blood combined with a High Fae descendant? That will heal you up.”

Harry nodded his head in understanding with thoughts of the king's reaction about his Hogwarts adventurers in the back of his mind. He hoped the king will react well, but... Harry was betting on him not reacting well.

He hoped he wouldn't at least. It may be bad of Harry but he hoped someone would care about his two near-death moments. He hoped someone would take the nightmares of the Camber's of Secrets and the snake that it housed away, or at least make it easier to bare. 

“Ready Harry,” Jareth asked.

Harry nodded his head picked up his knife. He pricked his finger and watched as three drops swelled up from his skin and fell into the water. 

The water turned purple with a small puff of smoke. It smelled horrible and Harry leaned away from the smoke as it floated around. He watched as his grandfather dropped the need drops on the paper and waited for the results.

There was a moment of silence as the words appeared on the parchment.

Harry's grandfather was quietly studying the words written as the air steadily turned colder. Harry took a deep breath and asked, “I take it that somethin' is bad?”

His grandfather looked up at him and Harry felt his breath freeze in his chest. His grandfather's once calm eyes were glowing a bright purple.

“Yes,” The King of the Labyrinth growled out. “Something is wrong.”


End file.
